The Battle Begins
by Lunar Zephyr
Summary: FIRST FANFIC ALERT This is just my version of what would happen after the sixth book. I added a new character, well, a madeup one. Hope you all enjoy it!


**/Disclaimer/ Alot of these aren't mine but are owned by J.K. Rowling. You'll know what I own anyway. **

Harry Potter was awake. Everyone else in the house, namely his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley, were asleep, but Harry didn't feel like sitting down on his bed. He spent most of the day worrying while feeling excited, which is a weird combination of feelings. As he paced in his bedroom cluttered with spell books, potion ingredients and his clothes, he was feeling a tinge dizzy. Maybe it was because of sleepiness, or maybe, it was because when the clock turns twelve, he would become- as Dumbledore had said-a man.

When wizards and witches turn seventeen, they are now considered as adults and are entitled to do many things, such as apparition (though Harry honestly enjoys riding brooms as a mean of transportation.) Many would consider this as a reason to widen their magic prowess, or maybe just an excuse to move out of their parents' house. Harry treats it that way too, yet there was another side to his story. He might be looking forward to moving out of the Dursleys' house, but this means that he has lost another one of the things that have protected him ever since birth.

Harry Potter is a known name in the wizarding world due to the fact that he got rid of the most powerful Dark sorcerer, Lord Voldemort, while he was still a mere infant. Many theories have arisen, such as Harry being a more powerful dark wizard or maybe Voldemort accidentally hit himself with the curse he was supposed to hit Harry with, but Harry knew better. He survived because of his mother's death. He knew the whole sequence by heart, his father dies protecting him and his mother, his mother dies protecting him, then as the Dark Lord advanced on Harry and casts a spell on him, the spell backfired, and he was reduced to something even smaller than an entity. He was protected by his mother's love, and that was why he grew up to be what he was now. But this protection was limited, and would soon disappear when he turns seventeen.

_I survived because someone protected me... and died for me_, Harry thought.

Harry felt a pang of grief. Yes, so many people have died saving him; his parents, for one, his godfather Sirius Black and, most recently, his headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Just a few months ago, Dumbledore had sacrificed his only chance for survival to prevent Harry from dying on top of Astronomy tower, thus resulting to his own death on the hands of Severus Snape.

Rage flowed all over Harry's body just by the thought of the man. Snape had always been his least favorite teacher and Snape didn't exactly treat Harry as gold either. He always looked forward to a situation when he could take points off from Harry's house, Gryffindor, or even a chance to get him expelled from Hogwarts itself. Harry knew there was something wrong about him, yet whenever he told Dumbledore about this, he always replied that he trusts Snape, and Harry was always left thinking what would be his reason.

_Well, look where his excessive trusting brought him now_.

He immediately removed that thought from his head. Dumbledore's excessive trust with everyone had some good results too, like Hagrid for example. But still, there was another thought that formulated itself in his head. If Dumbledore never trusted Snape, he would still be here. He would be able to ask Dumbledore how he learned how to speak Mermish during his fourth year. Dumbledore wouldn't be in that white tomb in the Hogwarts grounds…

Another reason why Harry was feeling nervous for the past few months was because he knew that when he turned seventeen, he would have to go for a search for the bits of Voldemort's soul, the Horcruxes. In order to defeat the Dark Lord, Harry was told by Dumbledore that he had to find and destroy the objects where Voldemort has sealed a part of his soul. It sounds easy, if you don't count the Death Eaters, Dementors and Giants walking around trying to kill him. Not to mention the puzzles and traps Voldemort put up to protect his precious bits of soul. There were seven all in all, but Harry already destroyed one in his second year (Riddle's diary) and Dumbledore personally got rid of the ring owned by Voldemort's mother. So there were only five parts of soul left, and Harry had them engraved in his mind: _the locket, the cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's and Voldemort himself…_

Harry's watch alarm sounded. _Twelve o' clock_. It just came too soon for Harry; he was too lost in his own thoughts to have realized that he was worried about his own birthday. He actually felt a drop of sweat roll down his face at the thought. He wasn't safe in his room anymore. And, not for the first time, he really wanted to barge out the Dursley house. Yet, almost six years in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry taught him that when you are going out into a place infested with Dementors and Death Eaters, it is best to be ready. Harry rummaged through his desk; a mean feat due to the fact that it was virtually hidden under all his possessions. Hedwig's empty cage, _A Standard Book of Spells VI by Miranda Goshawk_, the mirror Sirius gave him about two years ago (still wrapped by the way, Harry didn't have to heart to open it anymore) and his beloved Firebolt were some of the many things that he had to push away to finally find his wand. Harry wanted to make sure that before he leaves the house the next day, he should make sure that he can cast a spell to save his life without receiving an owl from the Ministry of Magic saying he's been expelled.

"Ah…" Harry thought aloud, "Accio pillow!"

The pillow zoomed to Harry from across the room, which was to be expected, since Harry has mastered the Summoning spell since three years ago. Now Harry stood waiting for the owl, if there was one, but then, Harry wished there wasn't. He didn't want to be expelled because of a stupid reason of making sure he wouldn't be expelled.

Then he heard it. A flapping of wings, getting closer and closer.

_They couldn't have gotten wind that fast_, he thought desperately, _and, the heck, I don't think I got the date of my birthday wrong. Does that mean I'm not of age yet? No… it can't be. The prophecy said so, I was born now… So what the…?_

Harry's thoughts were cut short as an owl arrived at his bedroom window, illuminated by the moonlight. If he didn't know about the snowy white owl clutching letters flying outside his window, he could have sworn that it was a ghost.

"Hedwig! You're back!" Harry said.

He opened the window and the warm night air immediately brought more sweat onto his face. Hedwig swooped in and dropped the letters onto his bed, then flew back to Harry to greet him and to let him praise her for a hard night's work.

"You know, you scared me," he said while stroking her feathers, "I thought you were going to expel me… Now I know that was just stupid. You can go hunting now if you want."

For a moment, Hedwig's round, brown eyes expressed utmost confusion, yet it was gone when she nipped his index finger gently to express her thanks, then flew out of the window to look for something to eat, preferably rats.

Harry got one letter and opened it, and he knew at once the small, neat writing of one of his best friends, Hermione Granger:

_Hey Harry! Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday! I guess this is a very special day for you isn't it? I t was special for me when I turned of age; I finally got to review more spells for school! Oh yes, I chose not to include my gift since I'm really sure that I'm going to be meeting you in the Burrow anyway. I'm sure the others would know that too, I made sure of that. Well, I won't write too much in the letter, I might run out of other stories to tell you when we meet up. I can't wait to see you! Take care!_

_Your friend,_

_Hermione_

That's Hermione, always making an excuse to learn more. She was the smart one in the group, yet sometimes she can get into the most ridiculous situations like her campaign for house-elves, S.P.E.W. She's the one who usually helps the others with their homework, reluctantly no one knows, but still, she is one of the most helpful friends anyone can have, albeit being a friend with a large clump of bushy, brown hair.

Smiling, Harry opened the next envelope that contained two letters, and sure enough, one of them had the big writing of another of his best friends, Ron Weasley:

**Hey mate, what's up? Everyone here says happy birthday! Guess now you know how it feels to be of age don't you? Doesn't it feel great? I've been practicing my apparition and annoying Fred and George. Serves them right. Well, Hermione told me not to send the gift to you for now; I'll probably just give it to you when you get here. Not much to say, Gem wanted to write this letter to you, but she always wrote the other letters so I beat her to it. Haha. You should have seen her face. Anyway, can't wait to see you. You better hurry up.**

**Ron**

Ron was Harry's best-best friend. He was the oldest from the four friends, also the tallest. Harry can't imagine how much taller Ron got in the span of 2 months. He always gets into fights with Hermione, but it was just last year when they finally decided they should go out. He's great at playing chess and had, just like every other Weasley kid, a face full of freckles and a head with a clump of fiery red hair.

Sure of what the other letter in the envelope contained, and practically shaking from laughter about what he was going to see, Harry opened it. It contained the writing (which seemed pretty rushed) of the last of his best friends, Gem Jones:

_Hi Harry! Well, if you read Ron's letter I bet you would be laughing your pants off right now. But if you didn't, I think you should, so you would find out how funny it is. We fought over who was going to write your letter so I "conceded" defeat and he looked so smug. He didn't know that when he asked Mrs Weasley to give it to Hedwig to send it for him, I told her I would do it for her instead, and lo and behold, I got this letter. Haha. Well anyway, I just wanted to tell you happy birthday! How does it feel to be of age? Ron's practically gloating about it, so when you come here, be ready for him to be apparating every few feet (reminds you of a few other Weasley brothers doesn't it?) And it's so unfair; I'm the only one left who can't do spells freely yet… Augh. Two months left. Well, gotta send this now. Mr Weasley said that Mad-Eye, Tonks and Lupin will be there to pick you up and bring you here. Really looking forward to seeing you Harry! Take care of yourself!_

_From the one who outsmarted an of age wizard,_

_Gem_

Gem was the adopted daughter of Mr and Mrs Weasley, and was the friend who could most understand what Harry is feeling, due to the fact that both her parents were killed by Death Eaters for a fight for the Order of the Phoenix. She's a very beautiful girl with long black hair and stunning hazel eyes, the second smartest from the group and a Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Many people tease Harry that he likes Gem as more than a friend. He always answers that he doesn't like Gem that way, but, you never know.

It was one o'clock in the morning. _One hour of being of age, how fun_, thought Harry. Just then did he realize that he had to sleep already. His eyes started to droop, and he couldn't think straight anymore. He wobbled his way to his bed carrying his pillow and lied down. He needed all the rest he can get to get ready to go to the Burrow.

Harry had no more worries in his mind. All he was thinking about was that he was finally leaving the Dursley house after so many years and that he was finally of age. Not to mention the fact that he will meet his friends again.

_This is going to be a pretty good birthday after all._

Forgetting about everything he was worrying about earlier, and amidst Dudley's loud snores coming from the next room, Harry smiled to himself and finally fell asleep.

Harry woke up pretty early, and got dressed up for breakfast. The atmosphere in the dining area was pretty much the same, Uncle Vernon was reading his newspaper, Aunt Petunia was fussing over Dudley's food and Dudley (who has grown much, much larger, and now occupies two seats of the table) was sporting a sour look on his face; he obviously doesn't approve of the slice of orange and cottage cheese on his plate. It was always the same every year; no one even gave recognition that it was someone's birthday.

He sat down on his chair, staring at his plate which had the same contents of Dudley's plate. _The exact, same contents_. Weird as it may sound, but Aunt Petunia has made it a habit of giving Harry smaller portions of food, to make sure her son knows that he wasn't the one who "suffered" most in the house. But Harry just didn't think about it, he probably has a bad sense of vision from lack of sleep.

They all ate in silence, Dudley occasionally taking food from Uncle Vernon's plate as he hides behind the daily paper (the front page contained "SMUGGLING OF IMPORTED CARS: FOUND OUT"). Harry finished his food in a matter of seconds; he then stood up to return to his room.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Harry realized that his uncle was actually talking to him.

"Um…" started Harry.

"Well?"

_Well what? _"What the heck am I supposed to say?"

"Well, you turned seventeen today haven't you?"

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Uncle Vernon actually remembered his_ birthday_?

"Stupid prat," snorted Dudley, reminding Harry immensely of a boar, "Don't you dare tell me that you forgot it was your own birthday."

_Of course I know it's my birthday, I just didn't realize you would know. _"Umm… Well, fine, I do have something to say. Since… I'm of age now, I'm going to have to… leave this house. I f I don't, you'll be in as much danger as I am. So… I'm going to leave as soon as some of my friends get here. So there…" he finished dully, "I'll get to packing now."

The Dursleys' made no such reaction to this sudden proclamation as Harry turned his back at them and walked up the stairs. Still, he was stunned by the fact that they actually remembered his birthday, or actually mentioned that they did. _They're probably being nice because they're happy I'm leaving_, said the side of Harry's brain still thinking of the bad memories he had during his stay at the Dursley house.

He got in his room and started packing. After a few seconds of quiet revelation, there was a knock at the door.

"You could have at least said thank you," said Aunt Petunia.

Harry continued packing. "Well, thanks a lot."

"Why do you always have to be so ungrateful?"

"Err…" began Harry, while going to the closet to get his clothes, "honestly; I don't remember a lot of times that I should be grateful for anything you have done."

Harry expected an angry comeback, he even expected her to slap him then and there. It was a pretty tactless answer. No matter how many times they tormented him, they still gave him clothes and a place to stay in. Not to mention protection for his entire childhood. He dumped his clothes into his chest.

He didn't like the silence. It was making him feel really awkward, he guessed what he said really did offend Aunt Petunia.

"Look, I'm really so-"

"There's no need to be sorry," interrupted Aunt Petunia, "we've… I… I have been really harsh with you the past sixteen years."

Harry just stood there, looking at his belongings, waiting for her to say more.

"It's just that, oh, it's such a stupid reason," Aunt Petunia choked, "it's because… you…" she looked at Harry in the eyes, "remind me so much of your mother."

It was the first time that Harry remembered his aunt looking at him like that. Her eyes weren't cold and stony, or full of hatred; but actually had a hint of… happiness?

"Ever since your mother was told she was… you know…" Harry nodded to express his understanding, "Well, I was always a bit jealous. My mother and father always upheld Lily. She was always the beautiful and smart one. I was just plain, lanky Petunia… never noticed, never recognized. I never talked to your mother again…" Aunt Petunia stared at her feet, and started talking to them instead, "I didn't even… invite her to my own wedding. And I didn't even attend her wedding, where she made me the maid of honor… but…"

She looked up, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I always loved your mother. She and I were the best of friends. I always wanted to make up with her, but I was so stupid, I was so dumb."

For one moment, they just stared at each other. Suddenly, Aunt Petunia hugged Harry.

Harry didn't feel a surge of horror (it wasn't that scary) but it still shocked him all the same.

"Your eyes, they reminded me of her," she said, still hugging Harry, "I just wanted you to know before you leave, that, I always did love you too, but just like to your mother, I was too scared to say it. Now, I don't want the same thing to happen that I was too late to tell you that…"

Almost sixteen years of events flashed into Harry's mind. Almost all of them were reasons for him to hate the woman embracing him right now. All of them were reasons for him to push her away, and tell her that nothing can change the way he will always feel. But Harry didn't do that. For him, what Aunt Petunia said was enough. All the memories were erased from his mind, and he relaxed.

And Harry hugged his aunt back.

**Please rate! I'd really appreciate that... Thanks alot!**


End file.
